Obsession
by luckly the dorkfish
Summary: "It all really started after The Pool. John had began to notice something distinctly odd about Sherlock. Sherlock would freeze up suddenly, or this unknown expression would suddenly cross his face when he would touch certain object." What could be wrong with Sherlock? Will John help him? Or, will he leave like everyone else? Sherlock/John slash.


**I don't own Sherlock. Thank you for reading. :D**

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It all really started after The Pool. John had began to notice something distinctly odd about Sherlock. Sherlock would freeze up suddenly, or this unknown expression would suddenly cross his face when he would touch certain objects. When questioned, he would brush John off with an, "It's nothing" or "Don't you have something better to do?" John would shrug it off and continued on his way because it was better to stay ignorant than to invoke Sherlock's wrath.

John returned home from the surgery one day to find a brooding Sherlock lying upon the couch glaring up at the ceiling. Beside Sherlock, on the coffee table, was John's gun. As Sherlock reached for said gun he instantly froze. He then curled in on himself and started to visibly shake. John was at his side in an instant. "Sherlock?" John quietly, gently whispered. The only reaction he got was heartbreaking whimpers from the curled up detective. John gently reached out and touched Sherlock's arm. At that touch, Sherlock seemed to shake out of whatever was bothering him. He quickly sat up, knocking John to the floor, and made his way to his violin case. He takes it out and instantly begins scratching across the strings. John blinks up at him in bewilderment. "Sherlock, we need to talk." The only reply was an increase in volume of the tortured violin. "Sherlock!" After that, the music instantly stopped and Sherlock spun around and glared at John. "I do not need your help! We do not need to talk. And I certainly do NOT need you!" Sherlock seethed. He then proceeds to storm into his room and slams the door behind him.

John stares at the closed door for several minutes until he realizes that no, Sherlock isn't coming back out, and no, he isn't going to do so any time soon. 'That hurt.' John bitterly thinks to himself. He frowns at the welling sense of inadequacy that always seems to surge in the presence of a Holmes, but he wills that away to check on his lover because after all, this started because something was definitely wrong with his detective.

John quietly walks up to Sherlock's door and gently knocks. "Sherlock?" No answer. He tries again, and still, no answer. At this point he begins to worry so he says a quick, silent apology and opens the door. Inside, on the bed, lays a disheveled looking Sherlock that is facing away from John, toward the wall, curled in on himself. Again, he is slightly shaking but this time John can hear almost inaudible gasps of anguish. John is quickly at his side in an instant. He runs a shaking hand through inky black, tangled curls in an attempt at comforting his troubled love. Instead of questioning Sherlock again, he eases Sherlock up and into his lap where he gently rocks them back and forth, all the while making 'shushing' noises between frequent kisses to the top of Sherlock's head.

When the sobs have subsided, and the shaking has stopped, only then does Sherlock lift his head and look at John. "I'm sorry." John looks at him for moment before he takes him into his arms again and kisses his forehead. "I forgive you but I want to know what happened back there? What was all that about?" Sherlock takes in a shaky breath and tears spring up in his eyes again. He looks away and whispers, "I'm a very evil person, John."

John stares at him owlishly for a moment before a goofy grin appears on his face and he snorts, "No your not." Sherlock started to squirm away but John tightens his hold. "Hey! Hey, hey.. It's ok... What's wrong?" Sherlock blinks down at him and sags into his embrace as Sherlock quietly begins to speak.

"When we were at the pool, I started seeing things again. It all originally started when I was ten. I started to notice something was wrong. In my head... I saw these ghastly things. My head would play different scenarios. Different deaths. It only used to be mine. That didn't bother me that much but then you came into my life... Alone protects me John, it doesn't hurt that way, but you came along and broke down my walls, you wormed your way into my heart and you made me feel! So now, I see you! You die. Every time. By me, my hands! I hurt YOU! Over, and over, and over again! I could live with the thought of something happening to myself but not to you. I was better off alone..."

"Do you honestly believe that?" Sherlock's head snaps up at John's broken tone. He searches John's face for a moment before he drops his head and lowly whispers, "No, but it's better than being tortured every day... I could make sure you were safe that way."

"SAFE?! I DON'T NEED PROTECTING FROM YOU!" Sherlock raises his head and glared again pointedly at John. "I could hurt you! Do you know how many times I have prayed for these images to go away? I needed something to believe in. So I prayed and prayed but I never got any answers. I then deduced it was because I am an evil person. Only someone as despicable as me would be punished by these images. You need to get away before you get hurt and it's because of me!"

John stares dumbly up at Sherlock, briefly wondering who could make this man believe that he was some kind of monster. Suddenly Sherlock's passive behavior at crime scenes made since. Why care about people when you believed that you were some beast that would only destroy those closest around him. Next time someone said Sherlock was heartless, they would get punched.

Sherlock looked so heartbroken that John just had to kiss him. "You are no monster and I believe that you would never hurt me. No! Let me finish!" John intersects when Sherlock tries to interrupt. "I have a friend, that's a psychologist, who did intensive studies into mental illnesses. One of theses mental illnesses was Pure Obsessional OCD. Pure O OCD attacks the mind and plagues its victims with horrible thoughts. Usually makes the individual believe that he or she is cruel or bad. It is even said that the people with Pure O OCD have the kindest hearts and are some of the most loving people you will ever meet. So, no, Sherlock. I don't believe you are a monster. I believe you haven't been treated fairly and have always dealt with this alone. Sometimes just talking helps. When something like this happens in the future tell me! I will try to help and if I can't, I will find someone who can. I love you and nothing will change that."

Sherlock watery smile makes John heart clench. "I love you too, John."

If he holds John a little bit closer, John doesn't say anything. And if Sherlock showers his face with kisses he doesn't say anything to that either. The only thing John does is hold him just as tight and kiss back when the kisses happen to land on his mouth.

"John."

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

"Your welcome Sherlock."

"...John?"

"Hmm?"

"I do need you. I love you."

"I know, love. I love you too."

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**For those who care to know. I have Pure O OCD and these are just some of the things I go through, and see. Fortunately, like Sherlock in this story, I have had wonderful people in my life to help me along the way. :) Please be kind, This is my first actual story :D.**


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